Morning journal and courier., 1887-09-28

weeks of July. There is no other feeling like what is caused by this faint, doubtful,
 yet real perception-if it be pot rather a
 foreboding-of the years decay, so blessedly 1 sweet and sad in the same breath.
 1 Did say that there was no feeling like it? l An, but there is half acknowledged melan- | choly like to this when we stand in the per- 1 fected vigor of our life and feel that time l has now given us all his flowers, and that 1 the next work of his never idle fingers must be to steal them one by one away.
 have forgotten whether the song of the cricket be not as early token of autumn's approach as any other-that song which may be called audible stiffness; for though very loud and heard afar, yet the mind does not take note of it as sound, so completely Is it's individual existence merged among the accompanying characteristics of the season. Alas for the pleasant summer time! In Au- gust the grass is still verdant on the hills and in the valleys; the foliage of the trees is as dense as ever and green; the flowers gleam forth in richer abundance along the margin Of the river and by the stone walls and deep among the woods; the days too are as fervid now as they were a month ago; and
 yet in every breath of wind and in every
 beam of sunshine we hear the whispered
 farewell and behold the parting smile of
 dear friend. There is coolness amid all the
 heat, mildness in the blazing noon. Not
 breeze can stir but it thrills us with the breath of autumn. A pensive glory is seen
 in the far, golden gleams among the shadows
 of the trees The 1owers-even the bright est of them, and they are the most gorgeous of the year-hsve this gentle sadness we'd
 ded to their pomp, and typify the character
 of the delicious time each within itself. The brilliant cardinal flower has never seemed gay to me.
 Still later in the season natures tenderness waxes stronger. It is impossible not to be fond of our mother now; for she is so fond of us! At other periods she does not make this impression on me, or only at rare intervals; but in these genial days of
 autumn, when she has perfected her har vests and accomplished every needful thing that was given her to do, then she over flows with g blessed supelfuity of love. She has leisure to caress her children now. It is good to be alive and at such times.
 Thank heaven for breath-yes, for mere
 breath-when it is made mp of a heavenly
 breeze like this! It comes with real kiss
 upon our cheeks; it would finger fondy around us if it might; but, since it must be gone, it embraces us with it's whole kindly heart and passes onward to embrace likewise the next thing that it meets. blessing is flung abroad and scattered far and wide over the earth, to be gathered up by all who choose. I recline upon the still unwithered grass ard whisper to myself 70 perfect day! o beautiful world! O benefcens
 God!" And it is the promise of blessed
 eternity; for our creator would never have
 made such lovely days and have given us the
 deep hearts to enjoy them, above and be-
 you'd all thought, unless we were meant to
 be immortal. This sunshine is the golden
 pledge thereof. It beams through the gates
 of paradise and shows us glimpses far in